


More Than Pity

by cuddlesome



Category: Kikaider
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Love, Canon - Anime, Decapitation, Dismemberment, Drabble, Enemies to Friends, Existentialism, Gen, Major Character Injury, Rescue, Robots, anyone remember the melodramatic fighting robot anime from 2000, no? just me? okay, with the android that carries around a guitar and cries about being a monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Jiro's little brother is sadistic, cruel, and missing his head, but there's no way he's leaving him alone in the imploding DARK lab.
Relationships: Jiro | Kikaider & Saburo | Hakaider
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	More Than Pity

**Author's Note:**

> It broke my heart that Jiro calls out to one-armed, headless Saburo and tries to go after him as the lab is coming down. I think he would've saved him if he could, despite everything. I also thought it was interesting to consider what Saburo would be like without the ability to talk since he's such a chatty character.

Even amidst the burning, collapsing DARK lab, Jiro has only one objective—

“Saburo! Saburo, I’m coming to get you!”

He ignores Professor Gil’s corpse, more concerned with what’s left of his little brother. Without his ghoulish face and the doctor’s brain, Saburo barely stands out from the rest of the wreckage. Jiro tosses aside a veritable mountain of flaming debris to get to him. Something—programming? Instinct?—helps him find him. 

Without his head, the black chassis housing the machinery in his torso is the only reason Saburo was able to drag himself from what remained of all their other brothers. That and pure spite, perhaps. 

Jiro kneels down to pick Saburo up. He won’t let himself believe that he’s just a body, a collection of parts. To his joy, Saburo stutters to life as he touches him. He wonders how many of his senses are still intact after the damage that he received at the hands of the other Hakaiders.

“Can you hear me?”

Saburo hurls a punch at Jiro that strikes a glancing blow off his chin. 

“There’s no time to fight, we have to get out of here,” Jiro says, dragging Saburo up by his wrist.

The irony that he had once vowed to kill Saburo doesn’t escape Jiro, but he knows better now. He won’t allow his heart, such as it is, to be guided by rage.

Saburo stumbles, internal machinery whining with the effort of standing. He sinks to his knees in the rubble. The headless, one-armed robot is a far cry from the proud, sadistic person Jiro first encountered.

Mitsuko and the others would probably say he should leave him, and they’d probably be right. But his conscience circuit won’t allow it.

“Stay with me. Too many of us have been destroyed already.”

Saburo doesn’t move.

Because it’s all he can think of, Jiro adds, “You haven’t fulfilled your purpose yet. You can’t die without killing me.”

With a rough jerk, Saburo straightens up. Trying to contain his excitement, Jiro helps him back to his feet and slings his remaining arm over his shoulders.

He shields the vulnerable circuitry in Saburo’s torso from falling wreckage with his forearm as they begin the slow journey to the exit. Jiro knows it would be prudent to run, but he doesn’t want to put unnecessary strain on Saburo’s broken body.

If he cares about the speed, he doesn’t say. Saburo is uncharacteristically silent. He’s missing most of his neck and with it his voice box. The occasional flurry of sparks from loose wires come spitting out of him instead of hateful words. Jiro almost misses his continuous threats to kill him and his loved ones. Almost.

Jiro wants to fill the silence, so he says the first thing that comes to mind. “You saved me. Back there, I would’ve been destroyed for sure if you hadn’t shown up. Thank you, little brother.”

Saburo’s hand clenches, servos stuttering.

“Is it possible that you have a gemini of your own? A conscience?”

Saburo tries to wrestle away from him. The movements are weak and sluggish. He eventually leans back on Jiro.

“It’s okay,” Jiro soothes, “it’s a good thing, to be like a human.”

That said, the fire and smoke surrounding them would have undoubtedly killed a human by now. Jiro is grateful that their metal bodies can withstand it. He lets go of Saburo only to move aside more debris. The cyborg—or is he an android now, without the brain that had been in his head?—sways on unsteady legs. Jiro returns to him to support him when it seems he’s about to fall.

They’re almost out. He can see daylight. More words come to Jiro in a rush. He dreads to think what might happen when this truce is over, and he wants to tell Saburo everything he can while he’s still inclined to listen.

“I know what I said earlier about your purpose, but the truth is I just wanted you to get up,” Jiro admits. “You don’t have someone to give you orders anymore. You can make your own purpose.”

Saburo’s body turns away from him, dubious.

“You can,” Jiro repeats. “Dr. Komyoji will be needing his brain back, of course, but I saved your head. He can repair you and you can do anything you want. And if you want to keep fighting me, well… you can do that, too. Just leave everyone else alone.”

Even if Saburo should go on just has he did before, Jiro knows he won’t regret saving him. Professor Gil’s music no longer has any power to control him, and Jiro feels confident he can protect humanity from Saburo’s wrath.

Saburo’s chest and shoulder plates shake up and down with harsh little whirs. Laughter, perhaps. Jiro doesn’t know what to make of it, except to hope that it isn’t malevolent.

"I have a purpose to defend those I love. I chose that," Jiro says. "And it's good to love your brothers, isn't it? I hated having to hurt the others, but it doesn't have to be that way with us."

Once more, Jiro has a hard time reading his beheaded brother's body language, but he likes to imagine that the slight pitch forward of Saburo's upper half is something of a nod.


End file.
